Moonlight Passion
by Alexis Tenko
Summary: A night of rememberances for Mireille and Kirika. Fem Slash, a little bit of PWP and wonderful fluffyness for good measure     Remember to R&R!


Author's Notes: This is a story that I wrote over ten years ago now (I am 26 now). I almost think I was a better writer back then… lol Anyway, I hope you like the fic, please read and review!

Mireille walked into the apartment carrying the bag of groceries. She still wasn't accustomed to seeing her apartment in total disarray. Everything but the big pool table, some chairs and a few sets of bed sheets were destroyed when the Soldats sent more men to try and kill Noir.

The tall blonde walked to the kitchen and set her burden on one of the counters. Leaving the kitchen, Mireille stripped off her light raincoat and hung it on the back of a chair.

'Where is Kirika?'

She tentatively peered over the tiny wall separating the bed from the rest of the large room. There was no one on the other side.

'Well if she's not here, she must be out in the rain,' Mireille thought as she went back into the kitchen to make some tea.

A few minutes later, Mireille heard the door to the apartment close and heard someone moving about. The French woman put the tea in the serving pot and took it and two of the remaining cups out into the large living room. She just about dropped everything, dodging just in time to miss bumping into a soaking wet Kirika.

"Kirika, watch out," Mireille said as she put everything down on the table with a sigh.

"I'm sorry," the younger woman offered quietly.

"I made some tea for you. What are you doing out in the rain with nothing on your head? Don't you know that's a good way to get sick?"

"I went to sketch the rain in the park. I found a shelter and drew from there," Kirika explained quietly.

"That doesn't explain why you have nothing on your head," Mireille pointed out, "Go take a shower and warm up. The last thing I need is for you to get sick and pass it on to me."

Kirika nodded and did as told. As soon as Mireille heard the water running, she found her warmest robe.

'She'll need this more than I will right now, I know how she favors her sleeve-less shirt and shorts for sleeping...,' Mireille went into the bathroom, leaving the robe and picking up the wet clothes.

She hung the clothes over the half wall and went over to the pool table. She looked at the sketchbook for a minute, then decided to look at the newest picture. When she found the picture, she admired it for a few seconds before she noticed something else in the drawing. There was a person, who looked to be wearing a cloak. Mireille couldn't make out any other details about the person, just that she knew it wasn't Chloe.

'Must have been someone passing by and Kirika just drew him in, but... he doesn't look like he would have been easily noticeable.

"Mireille?" asked a soft jumped in her seat and turned to face Kirika. She had gotten done in the bathroom without Mireille hearing. The girl had on her usual nightwear and she also wore the robe over it.

"You look much better," Mireille commented, putting the sketchbook away like it didn't interest her any longer, "Have some tea, it'll warm you up from the inside out."

"Okay," Kirika complied.

After Kirika was settled, she looked at Mireille, then the sketchbook, then back again to Mirielle, "Do you like the pictures?"

"They are good, even for being a little amateurish. I suppose Milosh taught you a few things, huh?" right as the words left her mouth, Mireille knew she shouldn't have said them, then again, there were countless other things she should have never said to the young Japanese girl sitting across from her.

Mireille looked up just in time to catch a pained look wash over Kirika's face as she lowered her head, "Kirika, I-"

"It's alright," Kirika said, barely above a whisper, "I should be over it now, right?"

Mireille looked away, frustrated with the fact that she never could say the right thing, especially in a time like this.

"Mireille, are you alright?"

"I'm fine!" she was also really bad at lying.

Kirika must have sensed this, because she continued, "What is the matter?"

Sighing, the older woman gave in, "I'm just frustrated, it's nothing to do with you, so don't worry."

"Mireille, you're crying," Kirika said quietly.

"No, I'm not!" Mireille whispered.

"Then, what is that on your cheek?"

The blonde woman brought her hand up to her face and felt a few tears slipping down her skin. Mirielle took in a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"Are you done? I want to do the dishes before I go to bed," Mireille said suddenly.

Kirika's eyes grew wide with confusion, but she nodded that she was done. The older woman picked up the cups and the teapot and went into the kitchen. She ran the water and put a couple of squirts of soap in. she stared at the water as she let the dishes soak a few minutes.

'To think, it hurts so much to remember all of the times Kirika could have been killed and I did nothing but promise to kill her after we found out who the Soldats where and about Noir! She did nothing, she even risked her life for me more times than I can count. I didn't do anything in return, but promise to kill someone special to me.'

Mireille whirled to look behind her when she felt someone's presence behind her.

"Kirika?"

"Would you like some help?" the young Japanese woman asked.

"That would be nice," the blonde replied.

Kirika moved up beside the blonde, prepared to rinse and dry the dishes.

After the dishes were done, Mireille told Kirika she was going to take a shower. While the other woman was in the shower, the younger woman took her usual seat by the window to watch the rain fall. The rain fell in big fat drops, that gathered on the outside window sill. Kirika watched as people ran or walked through the rain, depending on who had umbrellas. Most people who passed bellow ran from cover to cover to keep as dry as possible.

The bathroom door quietly squeaked open and the Japanese woman could hear Mirielle silently pad into the room. Kirika stood, and without a word, went to the bathroom. She quickly reemerged, stopping a few seconds to allow her eyes to readjust to the darkness. As Kirika's eyes adjusted, she noticed Mirielle was standing in the same place, head down. Kirika just walked past the blonde and was caught by the arm. She spun to see Mireille looking deep into her eyes.

"Mireille..."

"Kirika, I'm sorry," the French woman said with a sob, her throat too constricted to continue.

The young Japanese woman didn't have time to think before she was caught up in a passionate kiss.

"Mireille?" Kirika asked, uncertain, after they parted.

"Kirika, do you know why I can't bring myself to fulfill my promise to you?" the blond asked, tears in her eyes.

The younger woman absently shook her head as she carefully listened to Mireille's words.

"It's because I love you. Kirika, I am not going to take your life, nor am I going to let someone else."

"Why? Mireille?" Kirika asked as she was pulled into a tight hug, "Why would you do that for me? I've become such a monster. I don't deserve anyone's love."

The French woman released Kirika. She noticed tears in the younger woman's eyes and on her cheeks and gently dried them with the pads of her fingers.

"That isn't true. Kirika, please don't cry," the blonde said gently, "I don't want to see you sad."

"How can I love anyone? I'm a monster," Kirika stated.

"No," Mireille said firmly, pulling the girl into another gentle hug, "If you were a monster, you wouldn't have put your life on the line to save me, and you did so a lot without even being asked."

"I thought that is what partners are supposed to do for each other."

"Yes, it should be, but I put you in those situations by bad planning, if you had been killed, I don't know what I would have done."

On impulse, Kirika pushed Mireille back a little, not giving the older woman time to ask questions before their lips met for a second time.

"Mireille, do you remember the time you were lured to Gustave Plaza? I was so afraid that something would happen to you," Kirika said when the parted again.

"How did you know? I mean, how did you know where it was and what was going to happen?"

"Chloe told me," was the quiet reply.

"So, you saved me instead of getting information on the Soldats."

Kirika lowered her head, afraid she may have upset her friend. She felt soft hands lift her chin so she would look into the blonde's eyes.

"Kirika," Mireille said softly, "you don't have to be afraid. I don't want you to be afraid anymore."

A stray tear slid down Kirika's cheek as she left Mireille and went to the bed. The blond watched to young woman climb into bed and pull the covers up to her chin as she turned to face the wall.

'Kirika...,' Mireille thought.

Deciding on what to do, Mireille went to the bed and lay down.

"Kirika, please look at me."

Reluctantly, the younger woman turned to face the blonde. Kirika looked the French woman right in the eye. Unsure of what to do next, she made no other move.

Noticing Kirika's hesitation, Mireille took the initiative. She brushed the back of her hand across the Japanese woman's cheek as she kissed her again. To the blonde's surprise, Kirika deepened the kiss instead of moving away. Mireille ran her hand down Kirika's neck to her chest. The younger woman gasped at the sensation, allowing Mireille to slip her tongue past her lips. When they parted for air, Mireille saw raw passion in Kirika's eyes.

Experimentally, Kirika reached across to brush her own hand over Mireille's cheeks, lips and neck. The blonde's eyes closed at the soft contact. The expression on the French woman's face excited Kirika and also helped to encourage her. She moved her hand down to Mireille's chest and tentatively started to rub the woman's breasts through the fabric of the long shirt she usually wore. The older woman gasped.

Mireille found Kirika's hands in the dark and gently stopped her sweet torture, "Kirika, are- are you sure about this?"

In response, the young Japanese woman leaned over and kissed her partner again. Mireille allowed the feelings to wash over her as the kiss was deepened. Before she knew what was happening the blonde felt Kirika start to unbutton her shirt. The French woman's eyes flew open when she felt Kirika's hands against her now bare chest. She slowly relaxed again, as the feelings flowed through her to her womb.

Kirika felt the urgent hands tug her head up to Mireille;s face. The young woman was pulled into a hungry kiss that put their previous kisses to shame. Kirika almost squeaked as she felt herself being flipped onto her back with Mireille ending up on top.

"Mireille..."

Kirika was silenced with a finger that was quickly replaced by lips. The Japanese woman engraved every little detail into memory; the way Mireille looked at her with a look of adoration, the sweet taste of the other woman's kisses. Ever since she had woken up with no memory, she never knew who she was or what she had been through. It was hard for Kirika sometimes, not knowing herself. The young woman's reverie was shattered as she felt the robe she was wearing gently opened, then soft hands carefully start to remove her shirt. She looked at the other woman in time to see her take one of her nipples into her mouth.

Kirika silently gasped. She vaguely wondered if she was still awake. Her attention was centered on the mouth that was pleasuring her breasts, and arched her back as a quick wave of pleasure washed over her.

Mireille felt Kirika writhing beneath her and decided to further the exploration. She left a moist trail of saliva from her partner's breasts to her navel, here she thought she would take the opportunity to see if the other woman was ticklish. She slowly drew her tongue across Kirika's waist, dipping into the other woman's navel before continuing across. She stopped at a scar in Kirika's right side and was reminded of the times she had been shot. She paid special attention to the scar to show she was sorry for the pain the younger woman had to go through, physically and emotionally.. the young woman had put herself in danger numerous times. Now that she was able to look back on that, Mireille was eternally grateful that Kirika was never killed. Mireille gently removed the shorts and panties that prohibited her from her next destination.

Getting no response from her ministrations except soft moans, the blonde continued her trek downward. The French woman stalled at Kirika's pubic mound for only a millisecond before she started to explore the most feminine place on Kirika with her tongue. Kirika arched her back as her mouth came open in a silent moan. It didn't take long for Kirika to reach her first climax of her young life from Mireille's expert tongue. As the younger woman started to come down from the clouds she could feel Mireille cleaning her. Mireille finished with Kirika's lower half and followed the younger woman's body up to her mouth and the two shared a passionate kiss.

"I love you, Mireille," Kirika said softly after they parted.

"I love you too, Kirika," Mireille said, bringing the other woman into a soft hug, her blond hair partially covering them both.

"Mireille, what should we do if the Soldats come again?"

"If they were going to, don't you think they would have by now?" the French woman asked gently.

Kirika was quiet. She hugged her friend, and new found lover, tighter as images of Soldats men attacking them unaware appeared in her mind's eye.

"Are you alright?"

Kirika nodded as she loosened her grip.

"I don't think we have to be Noir anymore, but we should still practice and keep our guns with us, just in case," the blonde said, "We may not be totally clear of the Soldats, but I don't think they are going to try anything. They are still bound by the old laws within the Soldats, so they must respect who we are. I think there is a little fear thrown in, too. Kirika, we are the ones who stood against all the obstacles to become the true Noir, they will not bother us again."

Kirika was grateful to hear Mireille's optimistic opinion.

"Thank you, Mireille."

Mireille leaned over and kissed Kirika on the lips. Both fell asleep in each other's arms.

Mireille woke with a start, noticing that Kirika's presence was missing. She quickly got out of bed and found her shirt. In her haste, she only buttoned the last four buttons.

"Kirika?" the French woman asked hesitantly.

She looked around the room and saw that there were a couple of croissants and some tea set out for her. She heard the apartment door open. She whirled to find Kirika standing in the door, holding her sketchbook.

"Mireille... is there something wrong?"

"No," the older woman said, relief evident in her voice.

Kirika set her book down on the table and walked over to Mireille, "I was worried about you, too, Mireille."

"How did you...?" Mireille asked surprised.

"You don't normally forget to button the rest of your shirt," Kirika said as a small smile crept onto her face.

Mireille noted how cute the younger woman looked with a smile on her face as she captured Kirika's lips with her own.


End file.
